I awoke in darkness. Light was as absent to me as any sense of awareness of where I was. But what I knew was rather comforting. My accommodations were impeccable, gloomy and drenched in darkness. Akin to resting atop a cloud during a terrible storm, what bliss!

  Alas, my euphoric slumber beneath the depths was not to last. As a horrible racket befell my peaceful rest. The sounds of battle, the struggles of life and death as steel met steel. Was it a war? A duel, perhaps, between two gentlemen of discerning skill.

  Who knows, but one thing is for sure. I was definitely in a lovely coffin. And someone was outside. As a courtesy, I began tapping on the stone above to get their attention.

  "Am I dead? If so, did I die fabulously?" I asked the mysterious stranger beyond the veil.

  Silence descended, and no one responded within a brief few moments. That was until a sarcastic voice with a tinge of youth finally responded.

  "No idea dude, I would check your pulse if you're not sure." The youth offered.

  The idea was novel, and considering I had nothing better to do than comply, I did so. Caressing the side of my neck with my two fingers, the familiar rhythmic pulse was absent. Transitioning to my chest, the beat of my heart was still.

  It was no longer in doubt; I was truly dead. Was this hell? If so, it was quite cosy for the realm of the damned. Perhaps the youth outside could be of some help.

  "It seems I am no longer among the living." I confirmed.

  "Yeah, I figured that, being in a coffin and all."

  The youth paused, and I could hear the shuffling of his feet through the thick stone. He was approaching with ill intent? That remains to be seen.

  "Full disclaimer, I killed the other undead dudes that burst out of their coffins. In my defence, one tried to fling a fireball at me, and the last two tried to split my head with sharp implements." The youth explained. "So if you feel the urge to go all stabby on me. I suggest you stay in your coffin. Because I will go all self-defence on your ass."

  While I admired the gusto of this young man. He threatened to kill me, assuming my death was possible, since I was already dead. He had an appropriate cause for concern, despite the lovely accommodations.

  "Kill you? Perish the thought. Torture you with kindness and playful whimsy, to be sure. But your mortal soul shall remain intact." I reassured in the only way I knew.

  "That's better than what the other guys said. Alright, I'll get you out." He agreed.

  Grunting with sheer exertion, my new companion and I made quick work of the coffin lid. Sending the stone artefact to the side and releasing me from my grave. I emerged with a grin; the sights and sounds were divine.

  Sure, the darkness was intriguing, but pale compared to the scent of death, the ambience of a candlelit crypt lined with the bones of the dead. I could see myself having quite a party here. Turning to my new companion, I introduced myself as any gentleman should.

  "Greetings, the name is Marius, Marius Vale. Recently deceased and formerly coffin-bound." I said, presenting a hand to shake.

  The young man took it after a few moments of caution, and I finally got a good look at him. Young was indeed apt. He looked to be in his early twenties, with short dark hair, bright blue eyes and a pale complexion. Uncallous'd hands and his worn suit suggested someone unfamiliar with physical labour.

  "I'm Joey Brask, and this little guy is Jeremy." He gestured to a lovely feline specimen that had just leapt atop his shoulder.

  "It is a pleasure to meet you both."

  "Likewise." He paused for a moment, relinquishing my hand before speaking again. "So Marius, how did you die and end up here?"

  About to answer, I found myself unable to form the words. I lacked the recollection. Not a single memory of how I got here came to mind. Curious, ominous and many mysteries surrounded the black hole where my past lay.

  "I am not sure; I must have forgotten." I chuckled, finding the humour in the odd but interesting situation.

  "Amnesiac undead — that's a trope right there. But I won't hold it against you." He nodded in sympathy, confusing me.

  "Thank you, my good man."

  "You're welcome, my dude, and I am sorry, but we have stuff to do. But if you want to tag along, feel free, just don't shank me, okay?"

  My hand came to my chest, just over my cold dead heart, unveiling faux offence.

  "I would never do such a thing. It is only honourable to call a man out for a fair duel." I declared proudly.

  "Fair enough, so I've got to check a few things on my character sheet before I head off."

  Character Sheet? The words struck a chord in my memory, and soon a transparent box appeared before me. Covered in readable script, written in High Grimgardian and neatly arranged into sections.

  The first section detailed my name as Marius Vale and race as Revenant. Below that was a class called a Necrochanter level one. The sheet designated it as an esoteric archetype. None of that meant anything to me.

  Below was a section called resources and included Unlife, Vigour, Mana and Resonance. I understood the first one. Unlife was probably what animated me, similar to health. Vigour was just a fancy word for Stamina and mana was for magic. What was most curious was the last resource, Resonance.

  "Resonance? Esoteric?" I muttered under my nonexistent breath.

  "Did you just say esoteric?" Joey came back to reality and settled his gaze on me.

  "Yes, I did. Do you know the term?"

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  He paused, shaking his head from side to side. Muttering a few incoherent words before finally making sense. Was he performing a dark ritual? I wondered if I could join in?

  "Yeah, I know a bit about archetypes, and from your confused look, you probably are not well versed and require sage wisdom?"

  "Sage wisdom, you say? How delightfully ancient and knowledgeable you are. Tell me, do you commune with the dark forces? Do they applaud your boldness or weep in the void?"

  "Well, I actually stared into the void once for a full four minutes, prick stared back at me and I told him to go screw himself." He replied with a cheeky smile.

  "Sounds romantic."

  "Could have been for all I knew; void dwellers probably get off on mouthy individuals, who knows. I don't judge the culture of eldritch abominations. Since I value my life."

  "This is a wise course of action." I said sagely.

  "Exactly, and come on, Marius, we can talk and walk." He gestured for me to accompany him to a dead end.

  "Now, the first thing you should know about archetypes is there are about four of them. Martial, Arcane, Divine and Esoteric. They are the holy quadrinity of class types. Every class fits into one of these four categories."

  "I understand, but what do they mean?" I asked.

  "I'm getting to that. Each archetype defines how a class functions, specifically how it uses its skills, powers or abilities and what resources fuel them. I would give you a chart if I had one available." He explained while inspecting a stone wall for what, I didn't know.

  "They are categories?" I asked.

  "Yes, in a sense, categories. Martial categories are fighting-based classes that use techniques fueled by inner energy, Qi, power or, more commonly called, stamina. Arcane is for magic-based classes that use spells, rituals and magic affinities. Naturally, they use mana. Then, the divine archetype is for the cleric types, getting juice from the gods. But sometimes, archetypes can use life force or health if you are a lunatic."

  "There is no shame in a bit of lunacy."

  "True that, my brother." He offered a fist, and I just looked back, confused.

  "Is this a secret ritual of the knuckle brotherhood? Must we draw blood with the sacred knife and chant in elder?"

  "No, it's just a fist bump." He chuckled before getting an inquisitive look. "I actually have a sacred knife, but it's cursed. Also, did you just say elder? As in the elder speech of the immortals?"

  "Indeed, you know of it?"

  "High Grimgardian was way before my time, but I know a bit." He admitted.

  "It is a marvellous language from the romantic age of old." I expounded on an era I only faintly recalled.

  "Romantic is one way of describing it. But to continue, we come to the Esoteric archetype. This one is special as it exists outside the normal bounds of the main three resource types. Anyone with an esoteric class usually has a unique resource bar added to their character sheet."

  I turned back to my sheet and noted the Resonance resource and several other sections further down. Labelled resonant slots with one of four occupied. Joey continued his explanation as he examined a peculiar-looking rock.

  "Esoteric resources work differently and don't replenish on their own. Health regenerates, stamina returns and mana recharges from ambient magic. Clerics draw energy from a god pool. In opposition, esoteric energies replenish under certain circumstances and through obscure methods. I'm not sure how yours works; figure it out." After that lengthy explanation, he turned to me.

  "The knowledge of my power is a mystery I shall unravel."

  "That's the spirit." He grinned cheerfully. "I don't suppose your powers can help us get out of here. I'm sure there is a secret passageway."

  "I am not sure, but I will endeavour to master these gifts." I declared proudly, turning my mind to the gifts.

  "Well, I'm not getting anywhere with this; maybe we can give your powers a shot. Do you have an extra section on your sheet or perhaps some skills?" He queried.

  Reading over my sheet, I found a solitary resonant slot down at the bottom. Reading over it, I explained what I was seeing to my companion.

  "Morbid Witticism, sounds like your Resonance abilities are based around abstract concepts. So that would mean to replenish you would have to absorb concepts from around you or generate it yourself, somehow."

  What he said made sense; I could feel something. It was instinctual, primal and tingly. The feeling was delicious, and the desire to indulge was intoxicating. But where was it located, not within but beyond me? Like a sensation at the back of my neck, raising the hairs and guiding me like a dance.

  "What's wrong?" He asked, and I would have replied if not for the pull.

  It was coming from the deceased, my fellow undead sprawled across the floor. The sight above each corpse was enticing, drawing me in as I approached, every step, the feeling grew. What was this feeling? There were no true words, but I would try anyway.

  "Do you feel it?"

  "Do I feel what?" he asked, clearly blind to the truth.

  "The exquisite tension in the air, akin to the moment a bell tolls as a life was laid to rest. Not merely magic, but the breath of mourning made true. It hums like an instrument of sublime beauty, filled with memory, weeping for things gone or yet to be born. The Requiem of the dead, it sings in a key only recognised by the soul."

  Once near the fallen, the feeling grew and soon the heavens granted me the words I so dearly desired.

  [Resonance detected! Requiem. Do you wish to absorb this resonance? Y/N]

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